Porcelain
by Sweetest Melody
Summary: How hard is it to find your brother in NYC when all you know is he might be a news boy there? Seemingly impossible, but with a little luck and the help of one of our favorite newsies, Nora’s attempt becomes more than she expected. pre-strike
1. Chapter 1: New York, New York

Porcelain

By: Sweetest Melody

Summary: How hard is it to find your brother in New York City when all you know is that he might be a news boy there? Seemingly impossible, but with a little luck and the help of one of our favorite newsies, Nora's attempt becomes more than she expected. [pre-strike]

Chapter 1: New York, New York

"This is crazy," Nora muttered to herself as she searched the streets again. She had arrived in New York City the morning prior on a mission, one that, some thirty hours later she was already prepared to give up on. After spending a terrifying evening sleeping in an alley, she picked herself up and grabbed her bag as she began her search again. "Just today more, than you can go back to the comforts of the world you were raised in." Nora began wandering the streets aimlessly as a voice in the back of her head argued with her. '_What about Finn? Doesn't he deserve to go back to the life he was raised in? And he's been without it for six year, you only six weeks!'_

Nora sighed. She didn't know for sure what had happened to the older brother she had adored for years, Finn. For all she knew he was a rich bastard living a better life than she did. _'Hardly likely,_' the voice added. The overwhelming voice of reason reminded her awfully of Brion, her other brother, the younger one. He was always the logical one… '_and look where logic landed him._ _Besides,' _the voice continued_ 'there is no way to find a boy you haven't seen in over half a decade in a city this size in two days.' _Nora silently cursed the voice, as she had always cursed Brion for being right.

And then she spotted him; a boy maybe a year or two older than her fifteen years, with dark features. He stood erect against a fencepost with a pipe in his mouth and a stack of newspapers folded under his left arm. Occasionally, he would turn around and stare behind him. Nora found this unusual until she realized he was perched on the outer fence of a horse racetrack.

She must have been staring at him for a long time, or at least long enough for the boy to notice. For several moments they stood eyes locked, staring at each other. "Well better be now," Nora mentally prepared herself as she walked over to him. "Hi," she said.

"Hey. You wanna buy one or somethin'?"

"Well how much are they?" Nora asked feigning interest.

"Penny a pape."

Nora tried to remember where her money was hidden in this dress. It was a simple but nice frock. Normally she would just keep her money in her bag, but fear of New York City had gotten the best of her. She didn't want to be penniless if her bag was stolen, which she was sure it would be taken from her at any moment. Nora thought for a moment and then she remembered, proceeding to stick her hand down the front of her dress. The Newsboy looked shocked as she produced a coin. She handed to him and he pocketed it, still staring at her in utter dismay. Nora smiled inwardly to herself. "Well, aren't you forgetting something?"

"Oh yea," he muttered as he made to hand her a paper and the rest crumpled to the ground in a heap.

"Oh, let me help you."

"Thanks," he muttered as she handed him his newspapers.

Nora took a few steps away and opened her paper. "Nice paper," she said casually as she scanned the articles.

"Sure," the newsboy replied.

"No really. Some great headlines."

"You's kidding me now. Old Joe lost his headline writer to the enemy."

"Old Joe? The enemy?" Nora questioned innocently, determined to make the conversation last as long as it took.

"Oh yeah, Old Joe, he owns the paper, The World News. Maybe you heard of him, Joseph Pulitzer?" Nora shook her head no. She supposed she had at one point heard of Joseph Pulitzer, but she never really paid attention to current events. "Well he owns this pape here. And the enemy's the opposing paper see? Run by William Randolph Hearst. Ever heard of him?"

"Maybe. Maybe I've heard of him."

"But not Old Joe?" Nora shrugged. "Well lookie there. Most people have heard of him at least. Anyway Hearst and Pulitzer is always going at each other, through these papes here of course."

"Oh. I see. Heavy competition," Nora commented, half her face impeded by the paper in her hands.

"That's some accent you got," he observed.

"I could say the same about you."

"I gottsa New York accent. Born and raised right here in the city. But you's? Where's that accent of yours from?"

"Same place I am."

"Yea? And where's that?" The newsboy leaned forward, as if to hear some secret she had to share.

Amused by him, Nora leaned forward until the newspaper was the only thing preventing their noses from touching. "Chicago."

Nora held her breathe. The boy breathed out hard as he pulled back. "Ain't that out west?" Nora lowered the paper, as she stood up straight, and nodded. "You's a long way from home, dontchya think?"

'_Now or never…' _"Yea, I am. I'm actually looking for someone... and well I was hoping you could help me."

"Hmm? You don't even know me. How could I help ya?"

"You're a newsboy, aren't ya?"

"Yea." He took a puff of his cigar and exhaled.

"Are you sure you should be smoking that thing?" The boy raised his eyebrows at her. "Anyway, I'm looking for another newsboy, my brother. Maybe you've heard of him. His name's Finn. I haven't seen him in a fair few years but he said he'd come to New York City, sell papers like he did back home in Chicago."

"Finn, eh? I dunno no newsie by that name."

"Oh. I see." Nora folded the paper up. So much for that; maybe New York was just too big. Aunt Eilis would gladly take her early. "Well, thank you for the paper."

Nora began walking away, but the boy continued talking. "See the thing is we don't really go by our real names, not most of us at least. So I might know this… whatchya say his name was, Finn? I might know him, but by a different name, see?"

"Oh?" Nora turned around. Maybe this would work after all, crazy at it seemed. There must be some hundreds of thousands of people in this city; what are the odds that she would actually find her brother? Aunt Eilis could wait.

"Yea, see me real name's Anthony, but all da newsies call me Racetrack."

"Newsies?"

"Yeah, it's what we call ourselves, 'stead of newsboys, see?."

"Oh."

"Yea."

"So which do you prefer to be called, Anthony or Racetrack?"

"Racetrack's me name, just not officially."

"Well Racetrack. I'm Nora." She boldly stuck out her hand. The boy shook it sheepishly. "So are you gonna help me or not?"

The boy took one last puff of his cigar before putting it away. An elderly man approached him. "Buy a pape sir?" The man thought a moment and grabbed a coin from his pocket. Racetrack handed him a paper and he threw the coin, rushing away without even bothering to notice if Race had caught it. Of course, he hadn't and Race had to reach over to pick up the coin. Placing his papers on the ground, he sat against the fence to think. Several moments later, Nora joined him. "It's a gamble ya know, trying to find one person in all of New York City. I mean, do ya even know what part of the city he's working in? Manhattan? Midtown? Queens? Bronx? East Side?" Nora looked at him and shrugged. She never heard of any of those places before and his face fell when she told him so.

"I never thought of it as a gamble. But I suppose it is a bit like that, eh? I ain't never even heard of any of those places. I'm not much of gambler, see. Whenever I leave things up to chance, they hardly ever work out in my favor. The odds always seem to be against me."

"Well the odds are against you now, but you's in luck, Miss–"

"Oh please, call me Nora. After all, I know your nickname; it's seems only fair that we're casual with each other."

"I suppose. Nora," Racetrack repeated with a smile. "They don't just call me Racetrack because I'm always at the track. See while you might not be a gamblin' girl, I'se most certainly a gambling man."

Nora sighed despite herself. "And how's your luck? Do you ever win your bets?"

"Sometimes it's good. Sometimes it's not. It's all about the feelings, ya know?"

"And now? How is it that you feel?"

"I have a strange feeling the tides have changed and luck is on our side."

Nora stood up eagerly, and stared down at Racestrack in excitement. "So you'll help me."

Racetrack stood up and met tipped his hat to Nora, lowering into a slight bow. "I'll do me best, m'lady." Nora blushed as he stood tall, grabbing his papers.

"Buy a paper sir?" He asked to a passing by a young man dressed up to the nines. '_Finn used to look like that. Maybe I'll get to see him like that again. Racetrack might be some poor, dirty newsboy, but I have a good feeling…"_ The man rushed by, not even giving poor racetrack a second glance. _"Or maybe not…"_

A/n: I plan to attempt accents for the newsboys and not one for Nora, even though she does have a Chicago accent just to distinguish the educated from the non-educated. Please Review.

Love, Sam


	2. Chapter 2: Home

A/n: So the more i write, the more I suck at attempting accents. I'm trying not to use them anymore. I was asked if I was going to give Nora an accent, but since I'm so unfamiliar with Chicago accents I won't try it.

Chapter Two: Home

Nora followed behind Racetrack for most of the day. The Newsies in New York worked harder than the ones she remembered in Chicago. Maybe Hearst and Pulitzer treated them rougher.

"You gotsa place to stay?" Racetrack asked as the day ended. They were sitting on a bench in the middle of a square, eating the dinner that Nora had insisted on paying for.

"Oh yeah, there's a dark alley calling my name," Nora snorted unattractively. Racetrack sighed and Nora instantly regretted her sarcasm. "I only meant…"

"It's okay, I just thought if you got no where to go… but clearly you…" Racetrack didn't even know what to say. After all, she had asked for his help.

"Mother always told me my sarcasm would lead me into trouble." Racetrack nodded and Nora sighed. "Of course I don't have a place to stay," She continued sweetly. "But I refuse to be a burden on you and your family."

"I ain't got a family, never had one either." Racetrack looked over at a group of boys congregating on the other side of the square. "Well not a real one with a ma and pa and all that and maybe a sister or a brother."

"How can you not have a family?" Nora asked before she could stop herself. That was her second flaw; she was too nosy for her own good. Racetrack paused again. "You don't have to answer that. Mother also said I was going to grow up to be a gossiper and that I ask too many questions."

"I lived in an orphanage till I was nine and finally ran away. Found my way to Manhattan and been working as a newsie ever since."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I ain't had it too bad. Besides I get a family. Us Newsies stick together. Better than any real family any of us ever had. Now can I ask you a question?" Nora nodded. "You close with your mother? I mean, I assume you must be since ya keep mentioning her. It's just, well why's you here in the city 'stead of with her in Chicago."

Nora looked off. "My mother is incapable of taking care of me, which is why I'm looking for Finn." Nora paused. "So you said you gotta a place for me to stay," a hint of slang creeping into her voice. Nora feared that Racetrack would get sick of the prim and proper ways that were beat into her as a kid.

"Oh, yeah." Race took out his cigar again and lit is up. Nora watched him as he blew puffs of smoke and could tell that he was thinking carefully. When Racetrack turned to look at her, she smiled. "I'll be back," he muttered as he stood up, still smoking his cigar. Racetrack made his way over to a group of boys on the other side of the square. Nora hadn't noticed them before, but now she watched them intently, even when they all turned to stare at her. Racetrack shoved a few of them and she smiled inwardly to herself. Several minutes later, Racetrack returned. "You can stay at the lodgehouse I'm sure. The boys are okay with it, especially since you'se looking for a newsies and all. Figured we could ask them all if they're name is Finn and then I don't know…"

Nora smiled. "Why are you being so nice to me anyway?"

Race puffed his cigar and shrugged. "Us newsies, we look out for each other. And since you'se brother is a newsies, I reckon we better look out for ya too. Besides, New York can be a quite dangerous place, 'specially for a young, pretty gal like yourself who don't know this city at all." Nora blushed. She was used to being the prettiest girl at the ball and such, but in the two days she had spent on the streets, her hair had become a mess, her frock wrinkled and speckled with dirt, and her face, her pretty face, was in dire need of a good scrubbing.

Racetrack smiled at the pink that had grown into her cheeks and led her to the group of boys that Racetrack had recently conversed with. "Boys, this lovely girl here is Nora. Nora, these are the boys. We got Mush, Dutchy, Specs, Crutchy, Kid Blink and – "

"Jack Kelly's the name," a tall handsome boy said as he stepped forward. "My friends call me Cowboy."

"It's a pleasure, Mr. Kelly," Nora responded with a polite nod.

"Bred well I see. Jack." Nora's face flushed a terrible shade of pink. She despised having her money show.

"Well Miss…"Jack broke off.

"Nora."

"Not what I was looking for, but okay. How about I show you our lovely residence."

"Hey!" Racetrack interjected. "She asked me for help."

"Yeah, and …?" Race paused, but said nothing more as Jack Kelly led Nora across the square to a somber building. Jack opened the door, and as Nora entered, she thanked him and glanced back at Racetrack, giving him a quaint smile as she disappeared from view.

"Hey Klopman!" Jack yelled. There was a loud thud as an elderly man with disheveled clothing and skewed glasses entered the scene.

"Hmm, yes?"

"I've got a new tenant for you Kloppman."

"Oh yes? And who is this pretty little thing."

"You're new tenant."

"Oh. I see." The man called Kloppman looked at her carefully and smiled. "Well I've got just the room for you!" The man made his way from behind the counter to Nora's side. "Right this way, Miss." Nora internally scoffed at the dollar signs that exuded from her presence. They soon entered a small room with a cot bed with a faded flowered quilt, a set of drawers and an old run-down vanity. "My daughter lived here in this room, until got married. Some of her old clothes are still in these drawers, help yourself."

"Thank you Mr…"

"Oh, that's Kloppmen."

"Mr. Kloppmen. I'm Nora. I've very grateful to not have to spend any more time on the streets."

"Not a problem, nope, none at all." Kloppmen smiled as he turned on his heal and left the room, quietly humming a tune neither Nora nor Jack recognized.

"That's old Kloppmen for ya, I'll be upstairs with the boys if ya need me. If not, someone'll come get ya for dinner."

"Thanks Jack."

"Don't worry about," Jack bowed his head slightly before leaving.

Nora sat down at the vanity and looked into the old, smudged mirror. Pulling open the top drawer, she find a brush and began combing her hair into long straight plaits.

"Níl aon tinteán mar do thinteán féin. I will find you, Finn. If it's the last thing I ever do."

A/n: So foreign language is what the internet tells me is the translation into Gaelic Irish. Please Review! Thanks for reading. Love, Sam


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